Too late, he's moved on
by Sandlesloveblooms
Summary: Sara finally gets the courge to ask Greg to the dance. Will it be too late?


Too late, he's moved on

Just please rate nicely, if it's counfusing it's cause I was heartbroken when I wrote. Oh and it's unbetad so any maistakes are mine.So, here you go.

Disclaimer: As if.

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'I can do it' Sara thought to herself as she headed to the break room. She was going to ask Greg to go to the LVPD Ball.

She had finally realized how he really felt for her. She couldn't believe she had been so blind. Well, now she's going to make up for it. She took a deep breath when she saw Greg sitting in the break room looking over some case files. She walked up to him.

He was so engrossed in his work that he hardly noticed standing there.. "Having fun?" she asked, smirking.

Greg jumped about a foot in the air and whirled around. "Sara! You almost gave me a heart attack! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I didn't sneak. I was standing there for a minute and you never noticed." She walked around to where he stood, looking over the photos. "These are the crime scene photos, right?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. "Did you find anything?"

Greg shook his head.

Sara sat beside him and looked over them. She noticed something and pointing it out saying, "There's a bloody shoeprint in that one. Might be able to get something off of it."

"Let me take a look," he said, reaching for it.

As she went to hand it to him, their hands brushed, and she met his eyes, smiling slightly. Sara felt almost an electric current run through her body as they touched, and she openly stared at him, looking deep into his eyes, almost losing herself in them.

"I'm going to go check this out." Greg finally said, standing up.

Sara decided it was now or never. "Wait, Greg." He turned back. "Would you like to go to the LVPD Ball? With me?" She asked. She held her breath, afraid of the answer.

Greg looked up at her. He studied her for a couple seconds. He sighed. "Sorry, Sara, I'm already going with Shyenne Culman, the new Csi. She was an old friend in collage and..."He knew he was rambling. He watched as her face fell.

"Oh." Sara's voice cracked. "Okay." She turned and left, not wanting him to see the tears forming. She walked slowly towards the locker room. She managed to get outside before she broke down. She saw Catherine. She groaned, not wanting to have to act like she was okay. She looked down, tears threating to not stop. She hunched up, hoping Catherine would notice her posture and avoid her.

Catherine saw Sara heading towards her, tears staining her cheeks. She knew what was hurting Sara and wanted to give her space. She left Sara to nurse her wounds alone in the locker room but not before giving her a quick hug and saying, "It's okay, Sara. I know." She turned to leave.

Sara sat staring at the wall, trying not to cry. She stayed there until she heard Grissom poke his head in and say, "Assignments."

Sara managed to avoid Greg for the rest of the day. Nick had come up to her earlier when they had been processing evidence and gave her a hug, asking, "Will you be okay?" Sara managed a nodded and had turned away to continue processing the evidence.

Now she was relived to finally be able to go home. She walked swiftly to her car and hurried home.She sat on the couch, beer in hand, watching some TV show. She was engrossed in her thoughts. 'I thought Greg had crush on me?' she thought. Not anymore. She realized that he liked her too late. She was too late.

"Hey, Sara, you home?" Greg's voice made her jump. She realized he was banging on her door. She jumped up to answer it. What was he doing here

"Greg, what are you- ?" She started to ask.

"Hey, do you know what time the Ball is?" He interrupted.

"7:00. Why? You forget?" She teased; trying to act like everything was okay.

"Yeah," He replied sheepishly.

"Oh, well I'm not even going."

"Cause of me?"

"No." She lied. "I just don't want to. I'm not going with anyone anyway."

"Oh."

"But, I guess I'll go. If you want me to?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. But you need to go so I can get ready."

"Sure." He said, giving her a hug before turning to go.

Sara watched him go before closing the door. She sighed and thought to herself, 'What did I just do?'

Later that night

Sara entered the dance wearing a halter toped dress that was deep blue and feathered at the bottom. She curled her hair and put on some light make-up.

She saw the team sitting not too far away. She walked over to them and pulled up a chair between Catherine and Greg (who was by Shyenne).

"Hi, Guys." Sara said cheerfully. No one seemed to notice how false it sounded. Catherine knew how uncomfortable Sara was though and decided to save her.

"Who's ready to eat?" Catherine asked. Sara silently thanked her for drawling the attention away from her. Everyone got up and headed over to the buffet table.

Everything was fine until the dancing started. Sara watched painfully as Shyenne and Greg danced together. The way he held her close and how she put her head on his shoulder...she could feel tears stinging her eyes.

Catherine moved to sit by her and said, "I know it hurts."

"Yeah," Sara said softly. "More than it should." She watched Shyenne and Greg, each dance getting more painful. Finally she couldn't take it anymore. She went to the bathroom and sat in the stall crying. She didn't move from that spot until the Ball was over.

She watched Greg give Shyenne a goodnight kiss and a hug. She felt like her heart was splitting. It hurt more than it should. She's not in love with Greg, she just likes him, likes his company...right? Ah, who was she kidding? The spark between them is there, it just took her almost 5 years to figure it out. She was blind, stupid, and now she's lost him.

She lost him. She could have had him for 5 years but she lost him. When she finally woke up to smell the roses, they were all gone. She was too late.

THE END

I know the end is kind of rushed and confusing but I hope you get the point. Oh, and this happened to me. Yeah. Story of my life. I cried for like 2 months. Sigh.


End file.
